To express it
“Through all these hours, I’ve sat alone,”
His expression dropped.
“Yet, I feel as if someone were with me the whole time.” She held her glance.
“You felt i was with you, the whole time?” A smile curved the edge of his mouth; he sat up slightly.
“No,” Her glance hadn’t shifted, “It was me.”
At that point he wasn’t looking at her anymore, however her glance remained; content that he was never listening at all.
Through the few minutes of thick silence that followed, he looked through her; his stare was bitter and blunt. When she realised, she returned the stare. Yet, looking at - rather than through - him.
“You have no care for me whatsoever, do you?” He snarled and shifted in his seat. “It kills me to hear these things you say. Every day. I feel so uncomfortable every time.”
That all-too-familiar sinking feeling returned in her chest and a gasp of air was dragged into her lungs. It was obvious that he had spent the time of silence formulating words in a way which would hurt her.
“Don’t you see how I get sick of it?”
“No.”
“Well, then, there's nothing I can do.” And with that, he left the room.
